I Won't Let Go
by Lydiann Biohazard
Summary: Formerly 'Chain Reaction.' When Don loses the one he had closest to him, who helps him through? 'Flacino' Flack/OC RnR!
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: This is my original account that I had given to my friend, but she decided to not do FanFiction. O: Ikr. Anyways, this is my new posting of 'Chain Reaction.' It should be better than it was, but anyways. I want to write Isabella in sort of a new light, so she is not from Wilmington. She has been born and raised in Brooklyn. Takes place post "She's Not There." It's a short chapter tonight, but there should be one tomorrow!_**

**_I hope you like it!_**

**_Disclaimer: I own no one but Isabella Pacino. Anyone else goes to their rightful owners_**

**_Summary: He didn't know what he wanted until she stumbled into his life. She never wanted anything until she met him._**

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><p><em>It's been the longest winter without you<br>__I didn't know where to turn to  
><em>_See, somehow I can't forget you  
><em>_After all that we have been through  
><em>_Going, coming, thought I heard a knock  
><em>_Who's there? No one  
><em>_Thinking that I deserve it  
>Now I've realized that I really didn't know<br>If you didn't notice, you mean everything  
><em>_Quickly, I'm learning to love again  
>All that I know is...I'll be okay <em>

Leona Lewis — Better In Time

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><p>"Why is it that you always seem to have your thinkin' face on?" Carmen Sanchez asked, blowing her bangs out of her face. Isabella turned and faced her cousin.<p>

"Because I have a lot to think about," she replied and took a deep drag of her cigarette. She really hated to smoke, but it relaxed her. It was only a habit when she was frustrated and had a lot on her mind. Like currently. Bumping into her ex-boyfriend with her best friend at a bar had set off her nerves.

"Such as?" Carmen prompted. Isabella turned to face her, raising her eyebrows.

"None of your damn business," she replied, flicking her cigarette to release the ash before tossing the butt onto the ground. She smashed it out with the tip of her Converse sneaker and took a deep breath.

"Izzy Rae, you're smoking again. Someone's crawled up your ass," Carmen said, fiddling with the ends of her jet-black hair. She was a member of Hombre Lama or "Shadow's Blade." It was a Mafia crime family of the Pacinos. They ran Brooklyn with an iron fist, and were moving in on the other boroughs. By birthright, Isabella was part of Hombre Lama, but she had jumped out at the age of eighteen after a cop (her father) had made a deal with her: the police academy or prison. It was an easy choice. Isabella Pacino was now a Crime Scene Investigator.

Things had gone from good to bad after she had gotten involved with her brother's ex-partner, Don Flack. A twinge of sadness echoed in her heart as she thought of the snarky blue-eyed detective. They had had an on and off relationship for about three years and two months ago would strike the fourth time they had broken up.

Isabella's blue-flame eyes settled on her relative, looking up at her from the fringe of her dark eyelashes as she twisted her mouth in thought.

"You're gonna kick this thing's ass, Izzy," Carmen assured her. Isabella shrugged and shoved her hands into the pockets of her black motorcycle jacket. October always rattled her in Brooklyn, the same place she had been born and raised.

"I know, Carm," she replied with a sigh. Glancing at the delicate silver watch attached to her wrist, she knew she had a few minutes. Which gave her more displeasure than she could say.

"Look, you gonna go support Elias tonight? We're having a jam and you know we're gonna want you there," Carmen said. Isabella nodded vigorously. Her family was very musical-oriented; her cousins all had a 'jam' where they played different instruments and tried to play songs. She sang with them sometimes for fun, but that was it. They were currently trying to get some songs together to play in a subway, but things seemed to be going nowhere.

"Absolutely. If I can get off on time, you know I'll be there," she swore.

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><p>Isabella laid down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She didn't know how long she had been laying there, but she couldn't stop. Her earbuds were in her ears, 'My Heart Will Go On' by Celine Dion playing softly in her ears. The great head of her rescue dog, Wrangler rested on her flat stomach and she gently stroked his long black and tan fur. She had found him on one of her raids, chained to a doghouse. He had been emaciated severely and it had taken plenty of love, patience, and veterinary care to return him to his former robust glory. It had been an uphill struggle with her landlords to let her keep him. Instead of an apartment, Isabella rented a small one-bedroom house in Brooklyn. She didn't have a lot of needs and they were met.<p>

"You know you're my good boy, Wrangler," she cooed to him. His tail thumped on the bed at the praise and he stuck his slobbery, velvety tongue out of her mouth to lick her arm. Her fingers wound themselves in his fur as she rubbed his side. He curled closer to her, moving his head from her stomach to lay next to her. Wrangler rolled onto his back, exposing his belly to her. Isabella chuckled and ran her hand across the dog's stomach, paying special attention to the bottom of his ribs.

"C'mon," she urged him, sitting up. Right now, she needed to just relax. Easier said than done, but it was going to happen. It was time to get ready to go to her uncle's house where the jam was going down. Right now, she needed the people she cared about most. The case she had worked had scared her and she wanted the fire-like warmth that came with being around her rowdy, dysfunctional family.

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><p>"Don, you're thinking again," Jess said, her head on his chest. Her chin was propped up so she could meet his blue eyes with her browns.<p>

"Because I tend to do that," Don replied, his hands behind his head. Why things couldn't progress with Jess, he didn't know. Jessica Angell was a stunning woman and she knew how to show a guy a good time. Every time she touched him, his insides screamed _'Wrong! What the hell are you doing?' _

His head was with Jess. His heart resided in Brooklyn alongside the blue-eyed she-devil that haunted his thoughts and dreams. Why couldn't things turn permanently turn off with Isabella Pacino? She was completely wrong for him in every way. Isabella was an impulsive, short-tempered, smart-alecky, cocky know-it-all. Jess was challenging, but she seemed to eventually let him have his way. Isabella fought him every step of the way, but she had never once said 'I told you so.'

Things would get better in time, he was sure of it.

"Don, I'm a woman. I know when I look into your eyes and you see someone else," Jess spoke up quietly, sitting up.

"I'm getting better with it," he protested. Her doe-brown eyes were gentle.

"Look, I know I'm no Isabella. I can't drop a street vendor on a moment's notice, I don't know the difference between a fuel pump and a carburetor, I don't know how to change a flat tire, and I don't know all of the science stuff she does," she said. He ran his thumb over her face and she looked away.

"There is no me and Isabella," he told her. Her eyes turned thoughtful as she drummed her fingers on her leg.

"But there was," she pointed out. "And you two have been through a hell of a lot together. There may be a light-switch relationship here and I can deal with that."


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: Okay, so I have that done...now, to write more!_**

**_RaiN-n-Rizzlesgal: Ohyes, you have found my hiding place...you sneaky person you! I figured you'd like the Don/Jess moment ;D _**

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><p><em>I don't wanna dream about <em>

_All the things that never were_

_Maybe I can live without when I'm from under_

Joanna Pacitti — Out From Under

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><p>Isabella leaned over the pool table, the cue sliding along her thumb and her hand as it struck the cue ball. The heavy white ball hit the number one ball, bouncing it off the side and nailing in the number four ball into the side pocket. She stood up and twisted her mouth in thought.<p>

"Ooh, someone's got her thinking face on," Chaz Dodge's gravelly Southern accent caused her head to turn around. She smiled quickly in greeting and turned her attention back to the pool game she was currently playing by herself. Charles Dodge, or 'Chaz' was one of the firemen of the FDNY. He was tall, muscular, and looked every bit like one of the firemen from the calendars. He had shaggy dark brown hair and smiling green eyes. He was completely gorgeous and all-too willing to take her mind off of the snarky detective she currently had on the brain.

"Well, I'm a CSI. I have to keep my mind at work somehow," she replied lightly. She tilted her head and looked at the table again. There were a few balls left on the table and she was on her way to being finished.

"So, the mayor's party, huh..." Chaz trailed off. Isabella looked over at him, raising her eyebrow.

"Oh, you mean Deputy Mayor Kaplin's ego trip?" she inputted bitterly. He chuckled and snapped his fingers, wagging his finger at her.

"That'd be it," he approved. "Anyways, I was wondering if you were busy that night."

She shrugged. "I dunno, I mean, I might need to work. The Blue Flu is still in full swing," she replied. He slipped into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out two tickets.

"I could use a date," he offered. She examined the tickets. They were for Wednesday night. Isabella took a deep breath and thought ahead. She let herself chew it over for a minute.

"I'll call you and let you know if I need to work," she offered. His boyish grin caused a smile to break out on her face.

"That works for me," he agreed.

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><p>In the end, Isabella was able to go. Stella was going to give a forensics lecture at Columbia that night, so she wasn't able to make it. Isabella needed to represent the crime lab.<p>

"Pick me up at eight?" she suggested to Chaz.

_"Sure thing. Wear something sexy," he said. _Isabella chuckled.

"Alright, see you then." She snapped her cellphone shut as she leaned back in her chair at the bullpen in the precinct.

"Ooh, someone's got a hot date?" Jess asked. Isabella smiled widely.

"Just with the insanely sexy Chaz Dodge," she replied airily. Jess mirrored the smile, her brown eyes light with amusement.

"Are you gonna wear a dress that'll knock his socks off?" she teased. Isabella looked up at her with faux-shock.

"Jess...me in a sexy dress and knocking someone's socks off? Does that even sound like me?" she returned. She already had the dress: a slinky, strapless number with a low back and floor-length, with an insanely sexy slit running up to her thigh. Match that with a pair of sky-high stiletto heels and she was a knockout.

"Try not to give the poor man a heart-attack," Jess told her before returning to her chair. Isabella chuckled and shook her head.

Eight o'clock came and Isabella stood in her bedroom with the dress on. The scarlet color made a stunning contrast against her porcelain-pale skin, the sweetheart neckline dipping low to show a bit of cleavage. It hugged every curve of her body, giving her a Jessica Rabbit-esque body. She wore a pair of silver slingback peep-toe five-inch stilettos to match with it and she hung the clutch around her wrist.

A knock on the door alerted her and she slid on her coat to keep her warm from the frigid February weather. She walked over to the door, feeling more and more graceful with each step. Her long dark hair was pinned over her left shoulder, giving her a bit of mystery. When she opened the door, she saw Chaz clad in a tuxedo. Damn, did she love her men in tuxedos.

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><p>"I'm really digging the dress, Pacino," Chaz breathed in her ear. Isabella let out a nervous laugh as she walked around the room. There were people she recognized, like a few of the people her father worked with. This was an important function, so it called for plenty of people to show.<p>

"Thanks," she replied. His touch felt sleazy as he pressed his hand to the small of her back.

It felt like he was claiming her as his own, that she was his territory. It was a feeling she didn't welcome, not one bit.

"I'll bet I'd like it even better on my floor," he whispered. She stepped away from him a moment to gather her thoughts. The real Isabella Pacino would tell him thanks, but no thanks.

"I'm flattered, Chaz," she said, wishing she had worn something a bit more conservative. The sexy dress displayed her skin for all to see. Something that very few men actually saw all of.

When Robert Dunbrook announced Deputy Mayor Kaplin, everyone started applauding. Isabella tried to keep her focus on what Robert was saying, instead of Chaz running his fingers up and down her spine. He was announcing to the world who his date was and she was starting to question her sanity. It felt wrong in every way, shape, and form.

They released the balloons, and with it, brought down Deputy Mayor Kaplin.

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><p>Don straightened his tie as he walked into the ballroom. What he wasn't prepared for was the sight of Isabella Pacino taping off the crime scene. His eyes roved appreciatively over the slinky dress, admiring the way it curved around her slender body. It reminded him of Jessica Rabbit and he found himself wanting to peel it off of her and explore what she wore underneath it. When she turned to face him, his eyes fell on the slit.<p>

Oh, damn...

One of her long, curvy legs peeked out, giving him a clear view of her shapely legs and her toned thighs.

"Quit checking out Pacino and get a move on," Danny muttered, slapping another roll of crime scene tape against his chest. Don shook his head to clear his thoughts, or at least make them a little more G-rated. The conversation he had overheard between her and Jess had caused his jealousy to stir. Isabella was indeed a very beautiful woman, of course men would want to see her as he had seen her and touch her as he had touched her.

"Wow, I heard this was a swanky party, but geez," he joked lightly. Isabella gave him a pouty smile with her scarlet lips as she lazily looked up at him from her dark eyelashes.

"Mm, it was before Kaplin decided to take the scenic route," she replied lightly as she crossed the floor. His eyes fell to the shoes and could feel that all-too familiar tug below the waist. God, it was like the woman was sex on high heels.

"You're staring," Jess singsonged as she walked past him. Don snapped to attention and smiled at her. She let out a chuckle.

"It's alright, she doesn't wear stuff like that often. Just try to control the bedroom eyes and keep it in your pants," she told him, giving him a wink. His protective, jealous side came out to play more as he heard the jeers of the uniforms, talking about what they would and wouldn't do to her.

"Woo, Pacino! I didn't think you'd have a bod like that underneath all those suits and jeans!" one officer called. If she had heard, she paid no attention.

"Yeah, I'd like to get you into my bed!" another called. That one caused her head to rise.

"Not like I'd feel anything," she simply replied, causing an 'ooh' among the others. Don let out a snort as he turned his attention to the man he was interviewing. He couldn't help but hear more of her retorts as the officers continued their perverse banter.

One that had nearly caused him to lose his cool was: "I can think of a better sight than you standing up: you on your knees."

Her response? "Sorry, my mom taught me not to put small things in my mouth."

Jess had let out a peal of laughter and had to leave the room. Isabella gave the officer a self-satisfied smirk.

"But don't worry, honey, some girls like it when it's kinda small."

Don had to turn away to cover his laughter. Even when it was something as serious as a murder scene and a pay-lag, the NYPD could crack jokes.


End file.
